Month: June 2019

Our town, unlike most of the small towns was not separated into four or five different categories of people. There were only two :- The Billionaires that lived in the central and surrounding area, not too far from the river, and the South’ers ‘the lower class.’ Color, race and all that jumbo didn’t matter in our town, it was all about the black cards and the Benjamins. The older people from the South either worked for the billionaires, had something to hide or were given sanctuary for silence.

But neither of the reasons they stayed here were good. Didn’t mean the youngsters had a poverty stricken life.

It also didn’t mean we were living in trailer parks. No, this was the billionaires town.

Nobody starved, no one begged.

Our crime rate was five percent and even that was only because a few years ago, a woman named Gina Lorne was found dead. But as I said, it was years ago.

The people that ruled our small town had since gated up our entire community of seven thousand and twenty eight. Now those unwanted people weren’t even allowed past the gate.

No matter which side of the river or which side of the hills, there was no way some foreign person was entering without THE towns knowledge. None of the founding families would allow it. It was why our small town, just on the Hills in Good Ol’ Texas, infamously known as Liston Hills was also known by another name, a name that would shock this very foundation we once called safe, better and clean.

The name was the billionaires nest, though still a talked about myth, it was very true.

The history of our small town all started with the founding families of Liston Hills- Orniel, Bray, Stone, Hugh and Delroy, five of the worlds most richest families coming together with one goal in mind- security for their own. Security for their children, spouses and future generations. It marked one of the biggest business transactions made in 1883. The group jointly purchased the empty Hills and surrounding land to start a life here, away from all the common people.

Liston Hills wasn’t shown on the maps, not even as a paper town, and our town was very hard to find without knowing where you’re going. For most people, Liston Hills was a fictional place, but to us, the people that stayed here- Our town was very real.

So real that like any other town we had our public schools and our private schools. And in our schools, be it private or in our case public, we had our jocks, that was Jordon Dean Gregory the fifth and his crew- our football team.

Then of course there were the cheerleaders. We, as in most of the schools population referred to them as the ‘Demon Squad’.

‘Yup, we don’t piss off the pompom girls.’

Let us not forget our nerds- the newspaper team that sucked and the science freaks. Yes, it was harsh, but I did mention we were a public school, so name calling was tolerated, especially in my case, I was one of them.

And like all Public schools we had our riff raff rebels. But here in Liston High Public, they weren’t known as rebels. No, sorry, they were the bikers, the children and teenagers of The Sin Rider’s Motorcycle club. Of recent years, which pains one to mention we now had our trust fund group- the rich kids that belonged on the other side of the Hills, but for some odd reason they preferred to be here.

Well not all, rumor has it that a few years back Jace Stone was abducted and just dropped out of Liston High Private and attended school here, the other side of the River. Apparently Victoria Stone, Natasha Bray and Mason Bray followed. But rumor or not they didn’t belong here, and it wasn’t long when they ran back to their private education. It did however start a chain of habit.

The trust fund kids that didn’t have much adult supervision, or weren’t controlled by their parents like us normal teens, decided to come to our school. Less rules, less work, less stress.

This year 2018 our new trust fund group was actually all related and it didn’t take long for our welcoming committee to brand them as the weird ones. From their first day, they huddled together, choosing to rather sit with themselves than socialize with the rest of the ‘down-graders’.

Not for the females lack of trying. The twin’s Dallion and Dillon Snow were a sight for a girl’s hormones and a mother’s nightmares. They were that hot and with a slight British accent it was a crime of will.

Adam Snow, the middle one always wore a black beanie and long Goth clothing which was weird but hey, there was a reason we called them weird. Well, okay I admit I am the only one who calls them weird, everyone else just calls them the Snow brothers.

Reed Snow, however, was the weirdest of the lot, he was a Dan Brown conspiracy fan. Since the first day which was a few weeks back he has had his long brown hair and glass covered eyes stuck in a Dan Brown novel, and his fingers always jotting down notes ‘weird’. So anyway enough about them, let’s get back to the story. Now, while many stories start with once upon a time or a new girl in a new school, this one starts a little differently.

It all starts when Sarah West, one of the best cheerleaders to attend Liston Hills Public school since Victoria Stone, got kicked out of the squad for missing practice.

Sarah West

We can’t always hold life by the horns. I used to, but recently these last few weeks since tenth grade started I have been on the tale end of an aggressive bull. Today, I finally fell off and it wasn’t a pretty fall. It was the ugly type, the hard fall- where you crack a few bones, injure your back and howl in pain.

As usual, today, no different from these past few weeks I had been sociably late to every lesson in class, every practice with the squad. Meetings and outings with my soon to be new parents took a lot of time. Yup, I was the foster kid. Well, the only one that attended Liston Hills Public School.

“SARAH.” The shrill scream that came from Macy Ward, our cheerleader captain or as I love to call her our Loony Ward had me rolling my eyes.

Stretching out my legs, I held my foot to my butt with my right hand and after an insufferable minute of not answering Loony Ward I finally caved. Her eyes were currently staring daggers on my back.

The heat of her gaze, whilst welcomed as it felt like middle of winter with this cold front, I knew I was skating on thin ice.

“Yes Macy.”

I stopped my warm up and ignored the rest of the girls idling around and giving me their worrisome stares. The whispers weren’t really whispers as I watched Macy Ward’s chocolate complexion turn to crimson as her round eyes that have had most of the male population in our school drooling behind her since she first walked the hallways of Liston High Public, narrow on me.

“You have been late everyday these past two weeks, you are sloppy, yesterday you dropped Tiya on the floor which could’ve led to a serious injury. Now, I know you have the potential to do better but until then you are out of the squad.” Her hands planted on her hips. Those pink painted lips pulling up in a really terrible pout was the last straw.

“You kicking me OUT?” I screeched, my fingers rolling up into tight fists, “I have worked my butt off to get where I am and you think you are just going to kick me out of the squad, I gave you power over.”

My steps drew me closer to Macy, the girls and Chad our only guy stood around watching our spectacle. Macy vanished the rest of the distance until our chest were barely an inch or two apart, “Mr Lanco agreed, Mrs Frisco agreed, hell I bet the entire squad agrees, your squad days Sarah West are over.”

My laugh was hollow, my mind filled with thoughts of how easily it would be to just punch Macy in her face. Anger and a need for revenge filled me with mirth for Macy Ward. “What?!!! If you think this is over Loony Macy think again, this means war.”

I bumped her shoulder as I marched past her and the rest of the squad who were clever enough to give me a wide berth to the stands. Grabbing my blue Nike back pack I got for Christmas last year and my coke bottle I used as a water bottle, I left the sports centre as if I were on a mission.

Twenty nineteen wasn’t turning out as great as I’d hoped. It sucked in every major way. Well not every way, there was still one part of my life that proved to be a promising constant and that was my favourite book series, A Court of thorns and Roses by Sarah J.Maas. Without her books, without those stories of a strong heroine named Cerleun, I am not sure I would’ve survived Christmas and New Year. I spent it with my grandmother in Barfa.

The old witch drove me nuts. If she wasn’t drowning her ugly face in a bottle of vodka then she was dousing me with her irritant case of verbal diarrhea. Why she found the need to torment me with the happenings of everybody else’s business was beyond me. Most of what she said anyway proved to be a bunch of bogus. It was just the pineapple vodka speaking.

Grandma Sue didn’t want me after my parents decided to hit the highway. But every holiday since my eighth birthday, the same year I entered the system, the state forced me to spend my holidays with her. For a fifty eight year old woman, she looked an easy sixty eight. Always drinking, always smoking, the woman didn’t know the word limit. She only understood limitless.

So imagine my surprise when she bought me a welcome back present. It was the first four books of A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sara J. Maas and that was the only reason I didn’t chew her up when she left me alone in her three bedroom dilapidated house on Christmas day to go drinking with her friends. My feet ate up the distance from the sports centre which was separated from the schools building to the girls bathrooms. Turning the corner of the once white now graffiti colored wall, I headed toward the side door with the fire exit sign stuck in red on the top.

Pushing the old door open, my hands, not for the first time today felt icky and had me turning toward the basement stairs right on the left as my sneaker covered feet skidded on the yellow tilled floor that was covered in gum, dirt and various other germinating materials.

The basement had the best soap to wash all the dirt off. In the girls bathroom most of the time it smelt of urine and there was hardly ever toilet paper let alone soap to wash our hands. Since I started eight grade two years back, I had secretly used the basements toilet, and soap to clean my hands. Certain, I wasn’t the only one as more than one occasion I had caught a few of the other kids either making out or bunking class in the basement. The basement was a no teacher zone.

The one place designated safe from the preying eyes of Ms Lurns, our principal. The woman was an incarnate of Satan himself. It was also the place Mr Cam- the cleaner kept all his cleaning supplies.

I moved down the stairs until I reached the grainy door that was covered in carved letters, red pen, tip-ex and even old gum. Twisting the door nob, I wasn’t in the least surprised the room was dark except for the small exit window that brought in the dull glow from the early afternoon inside the small place.

Moving with familiarly to the side wall just past the door I switched on the small light and dropped my bag on the ground with a loud thud.

My back bent as I took a sip of water, and with it an unmistakable loud creak sounded from behind me. I turned naturally to see who I would find this time. My bottle dangled from my fingers, as my left hand planted itself on my hip, reminding me that I had to change out of this short purple skirt and into my worn jeans if I was going to make it home in one piece.

“Hello, anyone in here.” I whisper yelled as I walked further into the basement. It happened again, only now the creak sounded like a chair scraping the cemented floor. Treading with care, I turned the corner to where Mr Cam kept the cleaning detergents on an old metal shelves and my eyes literally bugged out. A good couple of seconds past in a frozen state, as I stood there, looking at the figure with the brown scared eyes strapped to a chair. My coke bottle left my hand, and made a loud noise as it fell to the floor.

The hand on my hip dropped as my body shook and the unknown person bucked, begging me to help. Then I screamed, and screamed and screamed. I couldn’t stop screaming. The longer I stared at the male , the harder it became to understand that he was tied to a school chair, with duck tape over his mouth and dried blood on his face. His head dangled to the one said as if it cost him too much energy to lift it up. Dreary swollen eyes urged me to help, but all I could do was scream. People barged in, surrounded us by the dozens. Some of the guys opened the tied up boy, others helped the boy out of the chair.

Lots of nameless faces pushed me, bumping me as they all tried to fit in the basement and get a front row seat to the show. My teachers waltzed in and somebody grabbed me, lifting me up, while I was still making noise. Only I didn’t know whether it was tears or shock that kept my shrills at an all time high pitch. Hushing me was not going to work and whoever carried me figured that out quickly.

Not sure who it was, but I shoved my faced in the persons chest and quieted myself. It was a really nice, hard chest that smelled very clean. Yes, clean. I was taken to the schools nurse, and a small pill was shoved into my mouth soon after. Everything after that was a blur.

There was nobody to call for me as I was a foster kid. And there was nobody to comfort me as I also only had friends that were on the squad and like I predicted and would’ve done to them, they shunned me. It was times like this that I really didn’t like my life.

Bullet

“Yo, son, are you poppin’ in the shop after school, we can take the bikes to town, get some Mexican Mania, what do you say?” My dad’s tall broad shoulders and big belly took up my bedroom door as I slipped my blue converse on listening to his deep gruff voice. My brown chin length hair fell forward into my face, obscuring my view of my dad for a minute. Once my shoes were on I stood up from my unmade bed and slid a hand through my hair. Taking a good look at my dad in his biker jacket, which we called a cut and an old faded jeans paired with his hard iron work boots.

“Yeah, Pop, sounds like one hella plan, I’ll tell Adam, his new bike needs a good run.”

“Yeah, tell him to bring the other’s too, we can make it a guys night. I’ll get Keira to watch Clay and pick up Brei. See you after school.”

Adam and I have been good friends since the beginning of eighth grade, that was three years back when I went to visit my cousin, Diamond at the Stones Estate for her birthday.

The place was an actual Estate with only two castles. And I say castles because they were huge, like hotel huge. Adam and his older brother Reed were at the cabin on the other side of the property where Diamond’s friend threw her a party. Adam and I were the youngest teens that night and just started talking. I gave the guy my number after he promised to hook me up with another gaming controller for my PS3 and since then we have been friends.

His brothers and I also got along but anybody else- Adam and his brothers, just shunned away, and called it trust issues. So basically without really saying it, I was the reason Adam and his brothers decided to attend Liston High Public School this year. I explained to them how different and more relaxed our school was from Liston High Private and the brothers were all in.

Their sister Brei wanted to join but we all agreed that the little trouble maker should stay in the private school. With their parents never home, Reed was the one in charge and he more than agreed to come this side.

He went as far as donating a new art class for the school. It all worked out, but I was just glad to have Adam around.

I haven’t been to school as yet, since my dad recently had his gallbladder removed. I stayed at home to make sure my little brother, Clay got to school on time and the workshop got open. My mom past on seven years ago from a car accident. My brother, only three at the time, made a big difference in his life. He was young. Though, he remembered flashbacks of her, he wasn’t crippled by her death. Not like dad and I, we both had to step up to the plate.

One minute we were expectant men. My mom was a stay at home mother, so we were never short of a home cooked meal or a damp wash cloth when we ran a fever. Or getting my room cleaned. Then she was gone. I was just ten at the time, same age as Clay is now, and all of a sudden I had a three year old brother to look after, because dad couldn’t do it and run the shop and be the Enforcer of The Sin Rider’s Motorcycle Club, then still come home and cook.

So my brother fell on me, and I never complained, it is how I got my name Bullet. My dad left the confines of my bedroom door, I listened attentively to his retreating form until I heard the front door open and close. I walked to my messy dresser and gave myself a quick once over before I slipped my cut on. Four months ago I finally finished my prospect time for The Sin Rider’s MC and earned my cut as one of them. I was not ranked like my dad but I was one of them not just by birth but by time served too.

“Clay, move it bud, or your gonna miss your bus.” I walked toward my brothers bedroom door which was next to mine, and watched him as he straightened his striped tie. His brown eyes that were identical to my moms and mine stared at me in irritation which was something I was used to.

Clay was almost as bright as my genius cousin, Diamond but his strength was more in computers and software. So my dad decided to send him to a better school, rather than push him to a higher grade, which I agreed. Two years ago my brother started attending Liston Prep Academy. It was the best Prep school in Liston Hills and on the other side of the Hills.

When my mom passed away she left us with insurance and a good size savings for my brother and I. My dad’s shop was the only Mechanic shop in Liston Hills that actually knew how to fix a car, so we weren’t hurting for cash. Didn’t mean we were going to be living on that side of the Hills, it just meant that we didn’t have the stress that a lot of the South’ers had. Not that they had much issues, I mean we weren’t living in flats or one bedroom state houses. Most of us lived in three bedroom houses and drove decent cars. The South’ers weren’t dirt poor, we just didn’t have millions let alone billions.

In Liston Hills it was the one thing that separated us. The ones on the other side of the hills called it hierarchy but like my cousin, Diamond who befriended Kylie Bray, a born Billionaire, trust fund girl, I befriended Adam Snow. The Snow family was no Bray or Delroy but they owned Airspace and one of the biggest tiling companies in the world. They were also originally from England.

Like Kylie Bray, the Snow brothers were down to earth. They didn’t care about ‘hierarchy’ they cared about trust and loyalty. After getting my brother on the bus, I finally took my motorbike and got to school. Yesterday, Adam called and said that he had to see me today. My initial plan was to get back to school tomorrow but since the call, I changed my mind. I parked my bike next to Dallion’s black Dodge. Most of the students were still in the parking lot talking in their groups. Some screamed as they laughed and argued, whilst others jumped off the hoods of some peoples cars.

A few of the students were on their skateboards doing monkey flips around the rest of us. All in all, it was just another normal day at Liston High Public. It was good to be back. I grabbed my back pack out of my carry and threw it mid-air, caught it with my hand and slid the black object straight up my arm until it was over my shoulder. My eyes squinting in the bright light. I didn’t need to know the girls were all gawking at me, when I did that. It was a smooth move my dad taught me. He said girls dug that move, it was how he got my mom, just wished I had my glasses. Last fall, a few months before our year end school party, I got in a bit of a fight with some prick and my glasses were smashed, since then I had been too proud to let my dad know I damaged my lenses.

Yes, I was a biker who wore glasses.

“Bullet, my man, where the hell have you been? I thought we were going to have to hunt your ass down this weekend.” Turning around slowly I seated myself casually on my bike and looked at the guy in front of me with a small one eyed open stare. His buggy blue eyes and black spiked hair and small beard, reminded me of a pixie with a beard, never seized to amaze me. He was so tiny.

“Kenny my man, why you still sporting that kitty beard?” I lifted my hand out for him to shake, he took it giving me a brotherly hug with a pat on my back,

“One eyed man, leave the beard alone. Why is everyone after my man hair.” He rubbed his bearded chin as his grin grew bigger at whoever he stared at behind me.

“So I heard Moonshine is joining us this year,” I announced with a secret smile of my own. Moonshine was the daughter of our club president, Shoelace.

The girl was home schooled her entire life and nobody believed that her dad finally let her out of his sight to attend school. I, myself was shocked by this very new, and sudden information.

“Who do you think I’m looking at right now?” He smiled, licked his lips and still looked beyond me.

Turning my head, I stared over my shoulder and finally spotted the girl he was so engrossed in. Man, my dad was going to rip me to shreds if he saw me looking at her with the thoughts playing in my head. Moonshine was a boys dream and a girl’s enemy.

She skilfully straightened her leg back, slipping it over the black and silver Harley with a finesse only mastered by a person who was one with the bike they rode. Moonshine was Shoelaces only kid, he taught her how to ride a bike when she was like four, well maybe eight. I remember when she turned ten, and her dad brought her to see her Aunt Jen.

She was already riding her dads Harley up Hill side. Now, she was all grown up. I wonder if sending her here was her dad’s idea. Her golden hair fell in waves to her waist, as she flung her satchel over her left shoulder.

Her ripped check shirt skewed to the left and a small piece of flesh was made visible. More than a few people stopped to watch her. “Her dad will kill us if he knew we were staring.” Kenny whisper yelled, and it was the truth. A huge reason to drop my eyes and get to class, but I still stood and drooled. Her dad had been gunning for me since they first moved to Liston Hills, that was three years ago. The club needed a President so our Mother Chapter in Los Angeles sent Shoelace since the guys we had weren’t so thrilled with the choices. Shoelace was the Vice President in L.A, and spent most of his time here visiting family anyway. So, no one lifted an eyebrow when he joined and was voted President by the main members.

Moonshine spotted us as Jaden Newt did a double flip with his skateboard. Not long after, she faced us and waved. I waved back, no point ignoring her. She wasted no time walking toward us. Kenny nudged me, whispering ‘stay cool, stay cool.’ Not sure whether he was talking to himself or me. Her ripped jeans that fit loose were covered in tip-ex and red marker pens. Knowing her friends probably wrote some stuff on them as good luck, I thought it looked cool. It was our thing in The Sin Rider’s MC, whenever one of the youngsters had something important happening, we’d write either on the skin or clothes.

“Bullet and Kenny, I knew I’d be seeing you guys, but not this early in the morning. I heard Travis and Beans were supposed to give me the run down. If I knew you two were actually going to arrive on time I would have liked to have the option.” “Next time Moonshine.” I said to her, and tried hard not to stare when her brown eyes lit up with interest.

I liked my President’s daughter and I knew she crushed on me too, but the thought of how much her father’s fist would be liking on my face and other parts of my anatomy made me stay away. Moonshine was more than eager to go where I didn’t think we should be going. But like all rebels I couldn’t say no to a girl as pretty as her. Not for long anyway. Kenny cleared his throat, opening his legs slightly. I think he thought it looked cool, but I told the brother that it made him look weird when he did it, and then the hunched back. He copied that from Adam, it looked good when Adam did it because he was Six foot two, Kenny was five foot four.

So when Kenny did it, he resembled the skinny version of an ogre, “Yeah, I don’t think your dad would be cool with you havin’ options Shine. Beans and Travis are your cousins hence why your daddy said you should get the tour from them.” I grimaced and turned my head to the side as I watched Moonshine’s smiling face redden in anger at Kenny’s words.

Moonshine hated it when someone pointed out the obvious, ‘DADDY CALLS THE SHOTS’. She hated it more when it was the truth. “I am just going to ignore what you just said and save my knuckles for when I have a worthy opponent.” I chuckled at her comeback knowing what she meant. Last spring, we were all up at the local pool club when Kenny gave mouth to Vice, Moonshine’s best friend. Vice was also The Sin Rider’s road captain, Kingpin’s daughter. She’s half the size of Moonshine and knocked Kenny out with a punch to his sternum.

It was the most hilarious thing I have ever seen. Principle Lurn’s voice echoed through the speakers around our school, to get to class. It was a recorded message, one of the many things our principle did that made us groan.

The three of us walked toward the school doors, following the crowd of other students. Moonshine stepped in next to me and I should have said something about it, I didn’t. “Have you heard that the school is under investigation?” Moonshine asked me as we reached the old glass doors, “Ah no. It’s my first day back, remember!” I replied as I walked toward the male lockers.

Moonshine on my heel whilst Kenny disappeared in the crowd of on goers. “Word is, three days ago someone found a boy tied up in the basement.” She stated with a little bit of eagerness that if it was anyone else, I would be worried, but when Moonshine said it like that I just couldn’t help but wince. Most likely, they were going to look at the rebels, which was the bikers, meaning us.

“Have you gotten a name of the boy who was tortured?.” I asked her as I reached my locker and started keying in the code. “Nope, but I’m sure I can get one, see you later,” She mused and I didn’t stop my eyes as they looked deep into her hazel depths with a secret promise that I couldn’t keep. “Go to class Moonshine.” She chuckled, shaking her head, before she finally saluted me, then turned on her heel and left me standing by my locker. Watching her go as her legs got further across the hallway I didn’t stop the rational thought embedded in my brain. Yeah, I am going to hell.

You know her

Three days are already gone since the mysterious abduction and torture of Percy Daniels- the nerd everyone hated. Including me, well not particularly hate, more like can’t stand. The whole school could’ve been guilty, even the teachers. But, like any mystery, there was always the most probable suspect. It seemed as if life just didn’t want me to catch a break.

This will be my first official book co written with Kady Co. To all of you, there will be an awesome Shock Me Twice Game coming soon. All paperback purchasers who tag me on a social media post with a picture of you holding a paperback copy of Shock Me Twice will automatically be entered to our big giveaway hamper worth $300.

Like this:

“I wasn’t aware that the latter was even a thought.” Reagan’s face practically burns in anger.

To think that a few years ago this time, we would never have been seen in the South, or on other ends of the invisible line. And today, we are in a diner on the South side of town, standing on opposite ends. In love with the same girl. Life.

A group of bikers stand behind us. A girl that suspects one of us killed her father, or knows who did, sits right in front of us. And the one girl, Reagan and I have allowed to between us. We are all in one room.

“Can we all just sit down for a minute,” My sweet Vixen, always trying to tame a fire when she senses the beginnings of one.

I shrug in response as Reagan looks at Dainy as she slides back into the opposite side of Lizzie.

Reagan chooses the seat next to Lizzie and I take the one next to Dainy. The waiter must sense the tension dissipate for now.

She comes to the table and takes our order.

“Why didn’t you guys order for me.” I roll my eyes at Dexter’s accusatory question as he takes a chair from the other table and seats himself next to me.

“You in dark denims, and a biker jacket, I don’t think a milkshake is what you want,” Lizzie muses with a secret smile of her own. Dexter informed me of their extra mural activities and her growing relationship with Mason. Biting my tongue, is my only response to it.

It has been a while since I have seen Mason, we have never been close, he was a year older than I am, and where I strive off my family name, Mason does everything to hide who he truly is. I wonder why is that.

Dexter winks at Lizzie as the waiter walks to our table with a tray of milkshakes, “You are right about that, but some cake and a pepsi isn’t off the table.”

“Enough with the chit chatter, what the hell are you doing with the bikers? The Sin Rider’s aren’t our friends Kent.” Reagan says as he looks between Dexter and I.

Here is the thing, I could tell him a part of the truth, but Dainy would call me out on my bullshit, and I didn’t want her to know, I had just employed an entire Clubhouse of bikers to protect her.

So I lie, “We are trying to find out if they knew anything about Lizzie’s father. Dexter filled me in and I thought I would try and help out. My father is quite taken with your mother. ” I ignore the bitter taste in my mouth as I think of that woman. A Trent, tramp.

“And Mr Delroy asked me himself if Sabastian and I could find out a few things, apparently the Sin Riders knew something.” Dexter adds, and though it is bullshit, Reagan believes it, because to him, Dexter Kent is the Delroy’s lapdog. The thought makes me smile, when I think of how untrue it is.

“Why are you here?” Dainy asks Reagan.

“Yeah, Orniel, what are you doing here?” Dexter adds.

“Thought I was coming to save your ass from a beating.” He replies before he lifts his milkshake and takes a sip.

Dexter puts his hand on his heart, and I inhale a deep breath for patience.

“Who said I needed saving, maybe I was hoping to start a brawl on the wrong side of the tracks. It will be good for my reputation.”

I roll my eyes, “Enough. I need to get Dainy home.” I tell them.

“I can do that.” Reagan says.

“No need, we are staying at the Estate tonight.” I tell him.

“I am right here, can I think for myself,” Dainy voices out.

“No.” I say as Reagan says yes.

What happen Dainy, feeling a bit left out? Or maybe you just want Lover-boy to noitce, that you are in fact there. Either, you better watch out Dainy, or you might find yourself in the middle of a man fight.

Like this:

People don’t ask me when I became this way. No one can tell me that they understand why I am the way I am. I have never been normal. I wasn’t born in the world that most of you are born into. My world is not like yours. We call it The Fifth State. The life of the ones born with a target on their backs. An early grave. Our life is tied solely to our last name and how quick one can pull a trigger and get rid of the body.

My life has always been this way.

Death is inevitable. You either the one with the gun in your hand or the one pissing his pants. Life is something I learned to live like it is my last day, because today might just be that, my last day. The chances of an early grave has been instilled in me from the day I opened, my unseeing eyes. I was born and grew up knowing that my father carried a gun in his right pocket. That the ring on his index finger means that he is part of a dangerous family, the Catelli Famiglia.

Nobody fucked with our family or our kind and lived to tell the tale.

I was born knowing that one day I will marry a Made-man. And maybe I was born to be lucky as not having to marry for power or one of the other fucked up reasons our fathers chose our spouses, but I was born to be the wife of a criminal.

The extent of his crimes are still to be seen.

Us – the females of the Famiglia are honed to be wives to Made-Men, to turn a blind eye when our spouses have mistresses because that is their way of protecting us. I can’t say I’ve never wanted this life. It will be a worthless thought, as I have only ever known this way, and will die only ever knowing it too. We aren’t born in the Mafia to grow up and leave. That only happens in movies and books and even those, the happy endings aren’t that happy. Let us face facts, are we going to be happy walking away from who we are?

Are we going to be happy living a simple life, relying on a bunch of fucking cops to sort out our shit when trouble finds us? No, we would be miserable.

My granddad, a Capo, said that it is easier to off a man and hide the body than to report a crime and wait for the cops. It is a messed up response to life but sadly it is true. Many people look at us in horror as they hear the whispers of how bad the lives we live. Our men getting caught. The tabloids that slaughters our family names, paints us as monsters. Those lives that we call normal, the only one we will live gets looked upon with disgust, awe, jealousy. I will tell you now that it isn’t that bad.

It is like never falling prey to a handsome man.

How would one know the pain of a broken heart if you have never tasted the bliss of a forbidden fruit? We live our lives with no thoughts of how we are going to pay our bills. We take what we want. It is the only way we know. Our men take the risk and we, the women live in the benefits. Now while many of you had heard the way of the Mafia, the way of the Famiglia, I live in it. Here, now, I confess my sins. I tell you the way of the Mafia, I will tell you the way of our world without sugar coating it.

My name is Aliyana Capello, daughter of Consigliere Sartini Capello and this is my confession.

Chapter 2

There is hope in all of us, a small glimmer of it even in the evilest of villains to walk the earth.

And love, oh love, a human emotion that is reckless, wild, and free as it paints you into the promise of its false truth, that is our fail switch. Humanity- one emotion that is weak, well at least that is what my papa says.

We sacrifice so much for it that in the end we are a mirror of our suicide. I, Aliyana Capello am not immune to the dealings of the heart when it comes to one man.

I am as vulnerable as if I have already slit my own throat.

“He is so handsome,” I say as I look at the guy walking in front of my sister and I. Leonardo Catelli, third son of our Capo.

Today is a special day for the Famiglia. Marco and Deno Catelli will be choosing their brides. The future heirs of the Famiglia.

“Gli sciocchi si innamorano Yana.” Fools fall in love Yana.

“Sono una sciocca in amore,” I am a fool in love. I inform my eldest sister as we walk to the back of the hall to drop off the biscuits my stepmother made for tonight.

She laughs and her black hair shakes as she tries hard to make the loud noise quieter. I don’t understand why she bothers. She is loud.

My stepmother has tried for years to tame Guilia, but her mother, my papa’s first wife was a free spirit. She died not long after giving birth.

Guilia is just like her, with light green eyes and a brilliant smile that lights up any darkness. My papa told me that he liked Guilia and Filippo’s mother because she never backed out of a challenge. But like her mother she would never get to choose whom she loves.

Guilia will never experience the joy of a kiss with her first crush.

Because for ones like my sister, love will be something that will grow, and die a sudden death.

“Do you find it strange that he sees you every day yet still looks right passed you.” Her strong accent voices out the words I ask myself a thousand times a day.

I smile, because the closest to the real thing she’d ever get to a romance would be through me, even if it is unreciprocated. For now

“Yes, but when the time comes I will eventually make him see me.”

“You are 18 Yana, papa won’t allow you to pass another birthday without an engagement. You are so lucky to choose. I say you better snatch him up before someone beats you to it.” Words can come so easy, but the truth is he is a Catelli and they are pure bloods.

“I am half Russian Guilia.”

“A beautiful half Italian woman, who is educated. Any man would be happy to have you Yana.”

“Guilia, Yana.” We hear the sound of our names coming from a man behind us as we place the four trays of biscuits on the wooden counter. A huge grin brightens my face as the man walks closer to us.

His light blue jeans are filled with holes as his white tee shirt hangs loose around his torso but the promise of his shoulders broadening in a few years is not hidden. No, he is a true Italian man.

I whistle as I throw myself in his arms, “Black and red Jordans. You put in all the stops today, is Diamond here?”

He hugs me back and kisses me gently on my head and it is not the first time I wish that he could be the brother I want to marry. We are so much better together. It will be as simple as looking at him.

Reno is easy, but his heart belongs to a friend of mine named Diamond. She is a biker Princess from Liston Hills and the only one he loves. When he met her, I was there and I knew, she was his.

“No, my father insisted I come alone. I heard Leonardo got his eye on someone.” Reno makes a funny pout face as he swipes a biscuit from one of the trays.

“So Diamond isn’t coming?” I am surprised, she said she’ll be there tonight. It was the reason I extended the invitation to Kylie Bray.

“Of course she is coming. Kylie is bringing her as a plus one.” He rubs his shadowed beard as he looks behind me at the biscuits.

I roll my eyes, “You can take a few more, but if my stepmother finds out you are on your own.”

“I don’t know why we had to do it here in Washington, why not New York,” Guilia groans as Reno fills his left hand with biscuits.

She didn’t like Washington, but my sister liked the man who controlled it. A man I have never met. She saw him once.

“Marco and Deno take residence this side. My father wanted to see how the city is doing since my brothers took this side up with Vincent. Seattle is thriving, if all goes well my brothers will control more places and make the family stronger.”

He touches Guilia’s nose when she scrunches it. My sister, like most of the women know nothing of the dealings of our men. I have never been one of them. The dealings of our men were something I knew way too much about.

We talk about college and Diamond, and Kylie. Reno’s charm is infectious, and his don’t care attitude makes him my sisters focal point for the next thirty odd minutes.

My sister didn’t get the option of University as she didn’t make the cut. She didn’t see the need to apply for college either, with her impending engagement to whoever my father would choose. She was 23 and it was her one wish that Papa not marry her off before I finish school. It was a year back when my Papa fulfilled that promise. Guilia knew that her time had come. And I think secretly she wanted to get it done.

Papa kept Guilia under a very tight leash.

Which meant, she never saw many men very often, especially ones as handsome as Reno.

I am not surprised that she dots on every word Reno says. I am not surprised that her longing gaze stares at him without blinking either. It is times like these that I don’t wish to be a full bred Italian. That I am glad my father married my mother.

I ache for her and my other sister, who spend most of their time with my stepmother taking up the house or attending Gala’s and functions.

My father sent me to boarding school in Chicago when he witnessed my stepmother’s monstrous tongue lashing she gave me on a regular basis.

My papa slapped her a few times, but leaving her would’ve made him look weak.

He came home one evening and told our house maker to pack my bags. It was the next morning that I found out I was leaving to Chicago.

There was a group of kids selected to go to Chicago as a peace offering between two Italian syndicates. I was the only girl, and my papa had to deal with a lot of the questions that came from his decision but the alternative was worse.

All he ever wanted was to protect me. That is what he told me the morning I left. Didn’t mean it felt right at the time. I was only 11. Barely of age to take care of myself.

It was like we were pawned off. I never thought that we could become a family of our own.

For seven years we stuck together. Romero, Michel, Lorenzo (Reno), Gabriel and I.

The five of us were inseparable. We weren’t accepted in Chicago as our parents had hoped. I was treated the worse, and called a whore for staying with four boys.

What the other kids hoped would make us miserable, made us stronger. In the end we decided to join the same University, here in Washington.

To the people in the Famiglia, these four boys are my brothers. After seven years, the stories amongst our kind became history and my father’s choice of sending his half-blood daughter was looked as an honorable action, not a suicide to his name.

But unfortunately, marriage to any one of the four boys would be considered a scandal. It was the one thing my father couldn’t be clearer about as I got older.

The thing is, I didn’t care, they, were not him.

When I first saw Leonardo Catelli it was two days after my fifteenth birthday and the first day of summer vacation. He was moaning to Reno and Gabriel about having to fetch us.

He looked right past me. I never existed then, and I didn’t exist now. I was Yana, Reno’s friend.

It was my own personal torture that Leonardo Catelli became the only one for me. Maybe it was his voice, or his broad shoulders, or the fact that he was always smiling. Or those few moments we shared on the rare occasions he actually knew I existed. Whatever the reason, it got me to University, got me to Washington, got me to look at him as he crossed the Campus grounds and attended frat parties.

Sometimes I wondered if he was the only reason I chose to study business.

My papa was proud when I announced that I was going to further my studies.

He always empowered me.

In more ways than one.

Except when it came to the matters of the heart, I was clueless as my sister. My father preached to me that love will not guarantee me a stress free life.

“I have not met your brother, Marco. Is he as charming as Deno?” I tease, aware that my sister is hoping to get chosen by Marco. I have not seen the man in person but his brother, Deno is a regular when Reno is around. His dark humor always welcome. If I could say it aloud, I would call him a friend.

But it has been a while since I have seen him. There are rumors that the Famiglia is shifting power. And Deno Catelli is the name whispered as the main player.

Unlike my sisters and most women of the Famiglia and even the ones that make up the 5th State, I know the dealings of our men.

Growing up I was always ashamed of having only half Italian blood. My papa told me to be proud of the Bratva’s blood in my veins. He said our women were strong but the Russian’s made their women unbreakable. He said I am unbreakable. I like to believe that is true.

“He’s hard work, thank fuck you don’t have to marry for power or you might just be stuck with one of my clan.” He laughs and I smack his arm knowing he is teasing me because of Leonardo.

Reno has known about my affections for his brother from that first day.

“I have to leave you ladies now. Guilia, it was lovely seeing you again. And my Yana Banana. I’ll be your plus one tonight, so wear something short and fleshy.” He winks at me as he saunters off.

“There is always a choice, we can go Gunzo on her and zap zap, ditch the body. Who would know?” Guilia says it like that can be an option as she starts the car. I slam my door closed.

“Ilaria is papa’s wife, we can’t go zap zap, or someone would zap zap us,” I inform my sister. We both hate the woman but tolerate her, I more than Guilia.

But my sister is lucky there, as she is the eldest daughter, and my eldest brother, Filippo will never let anyone harm our spirited sister.

We get home in an hour. The familiarity of it is welcomed to me as I have lived here for a while, with my papa.

This house is one of my fathers’ many properties. Like most in the Famiglia, my father has legitimate businesses and The 5th State ones.

The four floor Mansion me and my sister walk into is one of the legitimate things he owns. Real Estate.

“Hello, siamo a casa papa.” We are home papa

My papa doesn’t respond. He is either busy or out back in the gardens.

“You two are quite cheerful today, excited for tonight.”

Filippo my eldest brother walks out from the open arch way leading to the study. His voice is deep and loud as his big smile makes us giddy. I haven’t seen him in a month.

He looks handsome and refined in his navy suit and grey tie, Guilia and I picked out for him last week.

We both say my brother is a handsomer version of Christian Grey. He has grey/brown eyes and dark hair which is almost black. His jaw is clean shaven and when he smiles he has a dimple just under his eye.

“I didn’t know you were here, Papa said you would make it only tonight.” I say as my brother kisses me first on my cheeks, then my sister.

“Ah, Papa, wanted to surprise you.” He grabs us by one hand each and we follow him.

We know Filippo, he has got us something. He is always giving us presents.

I hear the sound of my other sister and brother, as we pass the back door leading to the pool. We like to call them the devil twins. They could burn the house down without a match stick.

“Papa is gone out, he took my car, should be back in a few, but I got something for the two of you.” He says as he opens the garage door.

I see it first and squeal jumping like a mad thing. It is a Lime Green Ashton Martin Vantage. My sister takes a few seconds to realize that this is the car we have wanted forever.

She jumps with me and we both throw ourselves at Filippo.

I kiss his cheeks and he laughs, trying to hold both of us.

Guilia almost falls but someone stops her and she makes a funny noise that has me releasing my brother and looking at the man that has his arm around my sister’s waist.

He is older, his early to mid-thirties. He has broad shoulders that stand out behind his suit jacket and a lethal presence that has me frowning.

His black eyes send shivers everywhere through my body as it stares at me while my sister takes a step back. The eyes of a killer.

A dark shadowed face and black unkempt hair is unlike a Made-Man but everything else is exact. From the shiny tan shoes, to the tailored cream pants and matching jacket.

He is a Made-Mad-Man.

I have always been attracted to a man with big hands. It is the only reason as to why my eyes go to his. Thick, long fingers, with veins around his knuckles and a long cut on his forefinger, makes me swallow hard. His hands can easily wrap around my neck, overpowering me. I frown, looking at his hand because he is currently holding that hand out waiting for me to take it.

Everything in me is screaming not to touch him. My body wants to run, so why is that I can’t drop my eyes from his.

I don’t want to be rude and disrespect my brother so I put my big pants on and my small hand in his. He closes his fingers around my dainty ones. His touch is rough, and firm, and his hands are neither cold nor warm. I don’t appreciate my bodies reaction to him. My pulse that beats on my wrist, the flush coming to my cheeks. The heat I feel emanating from his eyes.

He is staring, Aliyana. Don’t let him know you are affected by him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you..” His voice is deep, too deep, I don’t like it. He senses my need to remove my hand and grips it tighter. The action has my eyes stabbing right through his. Black, black eyes. Evil. But even evil is beauty. I deny the slight kick I get when his mouth twitches. He is waiting for my name. I need to tell him.

“Aliyana, I am Filippo’s sister.”

“Ah, Aliyana. I am Marco,” He replies.

He drops it, but not before brushing the inside of my palm as he does. The touch is intimate. The most intimate thing I have ever experienced no doubt in my sheltered life. Living with the four guys didn’t make me have more freedom. In fact it made any privacy impossible.

I take a step away, removing myself from our close proximity and behold my eyes, walking closer to us is Leonardo Catelli. He is a mystery to the Catelli bloodline. Where his brothers are dark, he is light. Brown eyes that are perfect, look at me, and as always, I remain like a statue. Marco is tall, but Leonardo is much taller than his older brother.

“You two go inside, we need to talk business. The keys to the car are on the dresser in my room, you can drive to Azure tonight.” Filippo orders us and I kiss my brother as my sister moons over Marco. I have to pull her arm so she comes inside with me. And even then she turns her head around at least a few times. I do it once, as I close the door to our home. One day I would ask myself why my gaze is drawn to Marco Catelli, a man with mad eyes and not the one whom I want. Dark vs Light.

Chapter 3

“We are stalkers Yana.” My sister mumbles from next to me.

I don’t miss Leonardo watching us with a small smile on his thick lips.

We’ve been peeping from the top of my bedroom window at the three of them for the last twenty minutes.

They have now taken their discussion to the patio. Sitting on the large out door lounge suites we purchased just two days ago. It makes it easier for us to see them.

He is so cute. “Leonardo and you will make a great couple Aliyana, imagine what your babies would look like, and Marco, ah Yana.” She groans my name nudging me on my king size bed.

I sigh, throwing myself flat on the black and purple bedding, looking at the ceiling, “He is the guy for me, tonight at the dinner I am going to make my move.”

“We need to go shopping,” My sister declares, her eyes widening with glee. But not even this moment, can we hide her fear of tonight.

She will become betroth to a Made-man of my father’s choosing tonight.

Who? I don’t know, my papa has not mentioned it. After tonight my sister will prepare for her engagement. The only thing that keeps us sane about this night, is that my papa will choose well and Marco and Deno will also be choosing their brides. My sister is hoping for Marco, but Deno is a better choice in my opinion. My forehead scrunches into a frown as I relive that split second when Marco touched my palm. It was a graze, but I feel like it is something more.

I stare at my sister, knowing what lies ahead.

Every family has their fortunate ones and the unfortunate. For mine it was my parent’s marriage been that of the fortunate.

My mother was a woman, a 9th generation member of the Bratva. She was also the love of my father’s life.

My father, born and raised to be a powerful member of the Famiglia, a Consigliere to the Capo Dei Capi, The boss of all bosses. He is the one who controls the entire 5th State, or as commoners know it as the Underworld.

All the Capo’s regardless of whether you were Italian or Irish, answered to him.

Whoever he is, nobody knows besides a select few. My father is one of those people.

When the Russians landed in New York, they agreed a peace offering. A marriage between my mother and Papa was negotiated.

My parents were young and fortunate, as they fell in love with each other and all was good, in fact Papa said it was amazing. The Russians and the Italians were happy, until the time came for the offering. The Bratva agreed on peace on one condition, that the first child which they’d hoped was a boy would be given to them at age 5. But my mother bore a girl and when the time came, they couldn’t do it.

So, the Famiglia protected her as they knew how.

Until the Capo of the Famiglia declared an end to his reign, and the new Capo rose. The decision was not made by the Capo Dei Capi as my sister’s life wasn’t that important that they take it to the true head. And our Capo seemed to have frozen his heart and gave my sister away. A deal is a deal, he said.

She was the unfortunate of my family. I, however am the fortunate sibling.

I’ve never met my sister. I was the last of my mother’s children to be born. She died when I was three so I don’t remember much. My father remarried as is custom in our world. And finally managed to produce another male. I, being the Russian’s daughter will never be forced to marry.

I am born free to have a choice of whom I choose to marry as long as he is in the Famiglia, which is fine by me. I always wished to be with Leonardo. Staring at my ceiling, I have to admit that when I saw him today, my attention was not the one he sought.

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“Fancy seeing you here.” Dainy says as she slides in the opposite side of me. Her long blonde hair braided down her back, falls over her shoulder as she looks toward the large group on my right.

“I could say the same for you, but I don’t have any of that Texas charm.” I wink at her as I signal the waiter, trying very hard not to look at the group of men.

Dainy rolls her eyes. Her long finger tapping her top lip as she, regards me with a perplexed smile.

“What on earth are you doing all the way here, Lizzie? The South is no place for a girl like you.”

I shrug, “What exactly is a girl like me ?” Arching my brow as I stare heavily at the girl my cousin is so in love with.

“Someone with a death wish, I can smell it on you.”

The door opens again, but this time my eyes don’t stray.

They glare at Dainy.

Could she know something about my dads murder? The question screams in my head, wanting my mouth to open and ask her.

“Dainy.” That one word shuts my mouth. We will have our time again.

My eyes must say those exact words, as Dainy flinches before she looks up and gets out of the chair.

“Hey, Reagan.” My cousin looks to me then her frowning.

The waiter shows up. And I should go, because I know tonight I am not going to get any answers. But the show has just began, So I order a strawberry milkshake, and a burger. Might as well enjoy the entertainment.

“What are you doing here?” Dainy asks Reagan.

“She came with me.” That deep smooth voice brings a smile to my face, and for the first time in ages I smile.

Sit back Liston Hill’ers this is going to be fun.

I apologize for the late page. My kid was sick yesterday, got a bit sidetracked, I will be double posting today. So enjoy and don’t forget to send those comments on shanRk@zoho.com

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There are times for things to happen. Places for them to play out in violence, and people who should be behind those things.

I am listening to the bikers bitch and moan about guarding Dainy. The price is right but the job isn’t. We were in the middle of dinner when Dexter messaged me. My father was in great mood after seeing Dainy. In his mind I probably played the catfish and got her right where I wanted her. I didn’t correct his wayward thoughts.

Dainy wasn’t please at all, with my recent misgivings, but I was hoping she’ll admit her love for me, breakup with Reagan and finally be mine. There were more pressing matters to worry about.

When I received the message, I excused myself, saying it was Kent. No need to lie to my father.

Dainy frowned, and followed me, saying she wanted to stop for waffles. I wasn’t going to refuse her, plus, now the bikers could get a proper visual of the one they’ll be guarding. So, I brought her a long for the ride. I was still worried about Dainy’s safety.

Since I received that threatening call, I haven’t heard anything since.

Kent was still looking around, but my father was starting to get curious. I didn’t want him getting involved, at least not just yet. Learning to handle my own problems was instilled in me since I was a kid.

The ring on my finger, and the name I took as my last, with the blood in my veins, said I was more than capable of handling anything that came in my way. Even a killer.

Dainy was ecstatic when I handed her the keys to the jeep after I told her where we were going. And they say money doesn’t buy happiness? I laugh in my head.

I watched her in the car, as her bare legs flexed as she drove. My mood took a nosedive once we walked into the Restaurant. I expected the bikers, what Kent failed to mention was the girl with the pixie hair cut, now dyed blue, sitting on the end of the diner, by the wall, trying very hard to blend in. Lizzie.

“Don’t.” I tell Dainy, aware she isn’t going to listen to me.

I had a suspicion as to what Lizzie was doing here. Right now, I had more pressing matters to deal with.

The bikers were trying to intimidate Dexter which wasn’t going to end well.

“I see my friend has left an impression.” I say as I walk toward them.

I ignore Dexter, as the bikers make way for me to get through. The tall one with his hand on the stool, and a patch on his right pocket, reading Road Captain is the guy I look at.

“So I take it, there is a problem, here?” I slide my hand in the pocket of my slacks. My face expressionless, but my eyes have a hard glint as I stare at the man who is undoubtedly twice my age. His beard isn’t that long, but black, with the first few strands of grey.

“Yeah, the price is right, but as I told your friend, we ain’t feeling like babysitting your girlfriend.”

“There is a killer in town, and my girlfriend is now on that list, did I mention she is a Hallow? ” The man frowns as the other biker on the side of me moves a bit.

“What does that have to do with us?”

“The property you guys deem as your clubhouse, belongs to her family,” I inform them. What I don’t mention, is that it belonged to me, I just made sure it had Dainy’s name on it. My father taught me to have only one plan, no back ups, but make sure that when I had a plan, it was impenetrable. Failure wasn’t a word we use.

“I’ll talk to shoelace, we’ll be back.” The road captain said.

“You do that, in the interim, Dexter will fill you in on the details. I suggest that you see that Shoelace has a positive response for me by the end of tomorrow, I hate to have to give your new president a call.

I hear the bell on the door behind me opening. And when I turn my mood goes from ‘agitation’ to plain down soar when I spot Reagan standing in front of Dainy.

“What are you doing here?” He questions her in an accusing voice.

“She’s with me.” I say as I walk toward my old friend.

He is every bit the jock he was born to be. His football jacket with his dark washed denims and Solomon taks, reminds me of our differences.

His blue eyes that I once looked at as a brother who understood me, now burns right through me.

So much anger.

I smile a bit.

“The question is why are you here? Came to see your cousin? Or came to find out if you still had a girlfriend left?” I ask him as I widen my stance and place my hands in my pocket. I don’t miss his angry eyes going to my ring before I do.

Oh, Reagan, seems like YOU want something Sabastian has, questions is, are you sure it is just his girl? Or does Loverboy have something else you want. Stay tuned Liston Hill’ers things are just getting started.

Thank you for reading, if you could please take the time to let me know what you think, I would really appreciate it. shanRk@zoho.com

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I am sitting in the diner on the South Side of this small town. A small town with big secrets, and one of those secrets is the name of the one who murdered my father.

Since I left school the day the cheerleaders pissed me off, I have focused all my attention on looking for my father’s executioner.

And every single time, I got a bit closer, I ended up in the same place as Dexter Kent.

I am not saying it is a coincidence, or not, as he did offer me help. But I know the reason he is currently dressed in a black suit surrounded by a group of seriously pissed off bikers has nothing to do with me.

I am not sure what they are talking about, but 6 bikers to 1 Dexter, I would say the guy is out numbered. It was the reason why I picked up my phone and dialed Reagan.

I look at their biker jackets, that read The Sin Riders MC on the back. The question of why they were here, baffled my brain, but I remained seated.

The place is my definition of an upper class Diner. Not the typical small town ones I’d see on TV. The white and silver table I am sitting on is rooted to the ground that is clean and looks spanking new.

The chairs are soft and covered in a grey and black fabric. I smile when I spot the waiter who served me as I walked in, a little over an hour ago.

She has her hair in a long braid that is dyed in a mixture of blue, red and dark brown.

Her slanted eyes go to the bikers and Dexter. She merely shakes her head and continues wiping the large granite slab, serving as a counter .When I got here, it was with intention I speak to the lovely said waiter.

One of the bikers push Dexter. He is saying something to the guys. Whatever it is they must not like it.

The biker burly man, shakes his head. Gosh, I am glad I called Reagan. The top of the door makes that click sound, alerting everyone of a new comers presence.

Imagine my surprise when it isn’t Reagan who enters but Sabastian Delroy with a very angry Dainy Hallow in tow.

Hello Liston Hiller’s, BETTER hang on to your screens, Dainy Hallow isn’t as happy as we thought, but what is Sabastian Delroy doing on the South Side of town. Find out tomorrow.

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Hurt comes in all different forms, times, places and the depth of it varies. For me the way I feel right now, it is the depth of the pain I feel.

That depth goes into my being, it suffocates me from the inside out. It clings to my soul. How did it all come to this, how did my life become so complicated when all I ever wanted was for it to be one of peace. Easy.

I have sat at this window many times before, staring into the distance. Once upon a time, on the days like these, all I wanted to do was sit here, my mind clouded in thoughts of one man, as that said man watched me from the lone seat while he savored his bourbon, sip by sip.

Only today, it is tainted. The rain washes away the remnants of the morning, a mirror to my angry out lash.

“Are you sure?” I ask him.

He is behind me, I know because of his reflection in the glass. His hands in his pocket, forever the refined man. Sabastian was groomed to be an imposing force before he was even born. It runs in his genes, his blood.

He will never be any other way, but the man who will hold your world up with just his determination, and bring it crashing down with his will. He will weaken you, and rebuild you until all you see, need and want is him. You can’t deny it, I can’t deny him.

“Yes, the test was negative.” He says, and the relief in my shoulders is nothing compared to the one in my heart.

A month ago, Sabastian had sex with my friend, Victoria Stone. He came clean to me a few days ago. It was then we finally had out talk. We put an end to our silence and a beginning to something more.

Victoria’s pregnancy was the one thing that caused a problem between the two of us. He would have to be there if she was pregnant and I would have to come to terms with how I feel about it. How he felt about Reagan and I.

Reagan, who I haven’t said a word to this last month, besides that we were done. I didn’t even apologize.

Thank you for reading. Below is a Youtube playlist, feel free to listen or add a few songs. And for those of you who have no idea what is happening, below is links for the first 3 seasons of School Me

School Me Season 4 Playlist

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I keep picturing her face in my head as she ran away from Sabastian. The lost look on his as he kicked the bin on his way, following her, no doubt to wherever she disappeared to. There was a moment, just a split second that I thought sorry for him. But, how do I feel that when I am in love with the same girl. She is mine dammit. He left her here. She chose me. Why do I feel like I am just a could be and not a should be.

My phone rings as I skip
the red robot.

LIZZY flashes on the
screen.

“Hey cousin.” Lizzy
and I haven’t spoken since I apologized at school. Come to think of
it I haven’t seen her since that day.

“Hi Reagan, you still
want to help with my dad’s murder.”

I offered her my help a
few days ago after Mason filled me in with the reason to why Lizzy
was in town. I thought she will tell me to fuck off so this is a
surprise. But a welcome one.

“Yeah, what do you need.”

“I am at the dinner on
the other side of the river.”

“What the hell are you
doing there?”

“I think I found someone
who might know what happened to my dad, her name is Kirsten Bellare.
She was Gina’s friend.”

I make a sharp u-turn and
head in the opposite direction. I haven’t been to Liston Hill’s
downside since we played against Liston Hills Public a few months
back. The place was the rough end of our small town. The people in
the South didn’t come to the suburbs unless they had to. We all
stayed where we belonged. Well, we did before. Things have changed
now in the last year, Mason, Rae and Natasha attended the Public
school and some of the teens from the downside attended our high
school on a scholar ship.

I wasn’t an ass-hole, I
believed in helping those who showed potential but the ones who
attended our school on a scholarship, didn’t deserve it. They were
the kids of our parents employers who were clever enough to get dirt
on our parents or suck up enough that people like my dad decided that
a pay check wasn’t enough.

“I’m on my way, send me
your geo location.”

“Sure, just hurry,
Dexter is here, and things look like they are about to go south
fast.”

She clicks the call off and dread follows me as I put more juice going 140k’s an hour. I know Dexter and trouble are best friends.

Hello to all our new subscribers and a big awesome Howdy to all of your guys. I will be posting shortly on my new upcoming book ‘ Shock Me Twice’ which I wrote with 8 year old Kady-Co. It is a Young Adult Series that focuses on a group of kids who attend Liston Hills Public School and solve mysteries. Really great stuff.

At the end of this post right below, I have posted a youtube video, “Not the School Me Playlist’ Another one with the trailer of Shock Me Twice. Please share it with your family and friends, or that special someone in your life.

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“Hey, have you
seen Dainy.” I am standing in front of Dainy’s house. I was in
the middle of practice when I saw her and Sabastian having it out.
Not sure what the hell was going on. I wanted to run and go to her
but I couldn’t.

The game was in less
than a week and coach was getting aggravated with our newbie, Curt
Dawson. The guy was a 9th
grader that just moved to Liston Hills. His parents were known
internationally for their generous contribution to the world’s aids
organization a few years back. Rumours in the tabloids hinted the
family had tight connections with the USA’S most notorious crime
family, the Sanati’s.

Why they decided to
move here was something I wanted to know. It was only after practice
did I decide to forgo my shower and rush to Dainy’s house.

Now I am standing by
the door, looking at Aiden, his hair is ruffled and his face is
pulled into an ugly scowl.

“She’s at the
cabin, with Sabastian, I suggest you give them space. They need to
talk.”

I frown as my gut
clenches, knowing that it is my insecurity. Doubt has an ugly side,
especially when it is directed to my friend, and my girl.

“Does she love
him?” Not sure why the words leave my mouth, why I even bother
asking her brother.

“Yes, she has
loved him for years, but I know Dainy has loved you for longer, he
was the one in the background. While you chased panties Sabastian has
been playing for keeps with my sister. And frankly, I am glad it
isn’t an Orniel who she’ll choose.” He slams the door in my
face and for once I don’t lose my fucking shit.

Sabastian’s words
ring in my head, “She is mine.”
He said it that night on the roof top of his house. The day
Sabastian finally came clean about his feelings for Dainy, and it was
true when he said that I knew deep down she was his. I just chose to
ignore what I already knew because the truth was something that
didn’t work in my favour.

Dainy does love me, but I know she loves Sabastian too. The question is what to do about that. I won’t just give up, I am an Orniel. I get what I want and I want Dainy Hallow to be mine. She is mine dammit.

I am not just going
to give my girl up, not without a fight and maybe even then. I get to
my car and jump in. I need to clear my head and think, before I do
something stupid, like going to the Cabin and finishing what I
started with Sabastian.

“FUCK.” I slam my hand on the steering wheel as I speed down the road at an insanely high speed. I head straight toward town. The night is clear, a contrast to the state of my mind.

Like this:

Hurt comes in all different forms, times, places and the depth of it varies. For me the way I feel right now, it is the depth of the pain I feel.

That depth goes into my being, it suffocates me from the inside out. It clings to my soul. How did it all come to this, how did my life become so complicated when all I ever wanted was for it to be one of peace. Easy.

I have sat at this window many times before, staring into the distance. Once upon a time, on the days like these, all I wanted to do was sit here, my mind clouded in thoughts of one man, as that said man watched me from the lone seat while he savored his bourbon, sip by sip.

Only today, it is tainted. The rain washes away the remnants of the morning, a mirror to my angry out lash.

“Are you sure?” I ask him.

He is behind me, I know because of his reflection in the glass. His hands in his pocket, forever the refined man. Sabastian was groomed to be an imposing force before he was even born. It runs in his genes, his blood.

He will never be any other way, but the man who will hold your world up with just his determination, and bring it crashing down with his will. He will weaken you, and rebuild you until all you see, need and want is him. You can’t deny it, I can’t deny him.

“Yes, the test was negative.” He says, and the relief in my shoulders is nothing compared to the one in my heart.

A month ago, Sabastian had sex with my friend, Victoria Stone. He came clean to me a few days ago. It was then we finally had out talk. We put an end to our silence and a beginning to something more.

Victoria’s pregnancy was the one thing that caused a problem between the two of us. He would have to be there if she was pregnant and I would have to come to terms with how I feel about it. How he felt about Reagan and I.

Reagan, who I haven’t said a word to this last month, besides that we were done. I didn’t even apologize.

Thank you for reading. Below is a Youtube playlist, feel free to listen or add a few songs. And for those of you who have no idea what is happening, below is links for the first 3 seasons of School Me